PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Running, legs pushing me farther into the distance, with only one thought ‘I don’t want to die!’ Running to be far away from here, a goal I knew I could not reach. But hell if that was going to stop me.

My breath fell in pants and my side was cramping so badly it was a wonder I was still moving. But I had a reason, I had to get away. My life, metaphorically and literally, was on the line. The line between fiction and reality was blurring. If it was ever there was one at all.

The Book of “Tales Untold”. The damned book which started this whole thing. The reason for the running, the visions, and the life or death situation I now faced. Had I not opened it, had I not read it, had I believed the warning on the first page.

“Reader Dearest, I warn you now; you don’t know what you are dealing with. If knowledge you seek, you will not find it here. If comfort you seek, you will not find it here. I write this in case I die and someone not I shall find it. There is a curse. One of immortality, of monsters seen to only by you, and one of a madness that reality sent you, one of Death. And they are real, real as this book in your hands. If you are reading this then I am dead. A coward’s death I faced. But you will soon realize, it is the only way out, when immortality knocks on your door.”

Seriously, how cliché was that?

But in case you don’t know clichés are used because they happen a lot. I learned that too late. Far far too late.

But now all there is to do is run, from the monsters, from the book, from the curse I now carry.

“You picked me up, you set me down, now love you will never find. Those you touch will die again, and your life on the run you chose.”

Everything is gone. Everyone is dead.

And I will never be the same.